


Grace

by emotionalsymphony



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Happy Ending, Intimacy, Mild Sexual Content, Pillow Talk, Reader has female genitalia, Romance, Semi-Steamy Fic, Short One Shot, Slice of Life, and a break, give hanzo shimada a hug, hanzo needs to be okay once in a while, its about the looveee, its not about the smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 10:32:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15362622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionalsymphony/pseuds/emotionalsymphony
Summary: Amidst the solitude, Hanzo feels the raging storm within him finally slow to an ambient drizzle. Darkness dances by the edges of his vision, lulling him into a peaceful slumber. The dragon closes his eyes and listens.Your heartbeat.





	Grace

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, hey! Sorry if it's been so long : ) I had lots of family problems to deal with at home, but that's all sorted now. I've had this piece sitting around for months and finally my lazy ass finished it. I might be a bit rusty since I wasn't able to write Hanzo in a while, but I tried my absolute best. This piece was inspired by two things: Hanzo's beautiful half-smile and King Princess' song called 'Talia.' I suggest you listen to it while reading ; ) 
> 
> I was kind of aiming for a semi-steamy, fluffy kind of fic so here it is!

Your breathing is heavy underneath the rhythm of his built form, his rocking akin to a steady motion that strained at your entangled limbs. How you got here, you don’t remember. Memories are a blur beneath the rough tips of his touch and all you could recall are the whispers of a tiny, tense conversation shared within the dead of the night. Praises, confessions, secrets—a kiss. First a motion so tentative then, not long after, _heated_. Lips began to linger on places more than just the mouth. The neck, the collar bone, the tiny spot above your hip—all of which ultimately ended in a heap of pure, absolute _bliss_. That was now. In the comfort of his bed.

Love. Trust. Need, all blended in a plethora of spine-tingling pleasure.

Amidst strained gasps and murmurs, you reach out to grip the archer’s hair, his black strands now slowly unraveling from its neat tie. The man lets out a grunt, momentarily scrunching his nose at the tightness of your grasp. Hanzo supports his weight with one hand and lifts another to fully set his tresses loose, quickly lowering the coarse palm to cup softly at your cheek. His golden sash descends further to the floor, something to be forgotten among all the other strewn items. The man finds himself enamored by the comforting swell of your bosom and the flutter of your lashes--a situation that last appeared in his youth.

You turn to his hand, watching with sly eyes as you moaned softly into its skin. 

Then he feels your darned tongue, slick against his palm because _gods_ , he cannot recall the last time he did this; someone beneath him, wrapped so fittingly around his—

" _Kuso,"_ He breathes.

The intensity of those dark brown pools strengthens even more when your gaze merely interlocks with his. The same deep, sad eyes that burned holes into your nape with irritation, the same deep eyes that narrowed with a sense of finesse and intellect—absorbing, observing—the same ones that held bags underneath its place, the same ones that housed proof of a killer’s instinct, the same hardy eyes that you always wondered what had seen.

Those exact eyes were heavy. Heated.

And as if on some unspoken agreement, your lips abandon his digits and rise to meet a passionate kiss.

You surrender to the feeling.

Hanzo murmurs something you can’t understand, rough voice smoother and deeper than usual. He speaks his native tongue through the skin of your teeth, the words natural and free-flowing. You moan. Everything sounded so right, everything was so right. The archer breaks apart from the kiss, both his arms now stationed on the sides of his lover’s head. He croons against your neck, nipping its flesh.

Hanzo Shimada. A man so collected, controlled, disciplined permits himself this brief intimacy with you, allows himself to admit to his restrained desires—because restraint is all he knew, all he was taught—but in here? Amidst love and warmth (maybe hedonism) Hanzo discovers that sometimes it could be nothing more than a shackle to healthy release. 

“So good,” You manage to rasp out. 

A certain angle makes the both of you respond in pleasure and all you know is his name, recited like the prayers Hanzo had once been instructed to memorize. Pride, along with something so electrifying, surges through his chest. He mutters something by your ear, the word low and hoarse.  

“Wh—wha—” You struggle to question between gasps, failing to understand what your lover had just said. Hanzo’s brows pinch together in impatience and you feel surprising pleasure spike down your core when he grips your waist just a bit tighter. You recall the sound of his voice, a voice that used to be heard talking, whispering, cursing—now dirtily being mustered out through groans as he demands louder. _“Again.”_  

His name. 

Your curse comes out in the company of suppressed gasps, that electrifying pressure beginning to steep heavily between your legs. The gasps merely deepen, his thrusts losing rhythm as careless grunts began to rumble deeply past his lips. Hanzo tilts his chin up in pleasure, sweat dripping down from his neck and onto the frame of your bare chest. God it’s close, so, so close. Your head lolls back, impatient for release.

So, you give him what he wants; his name— _Hanzo, Hanzo, Hanzo_ —tumbles out your mouth.

It takes a few seconds, but he responds with a subtle, taunting, almost cynical lilt to his tone, “And so you are obedient.” 

You don’t know how he did it, but his fingers disappear from your side and press right where you want them to. The coarse pads of his digits felt like heaven against your clit, circular motions fast, but not without pattern. You arch back against the mattress, mouth hung open in pleasure. He’s warm inside you, relentless, enduring. His eyes are shut, but his teeth are gritted _and there is something—something that just connects_ when he finally meets your gaze in the hazy mess of all this sex.

 

Something beyond lust.

 

Beyond want.

 

Beyond his handsome, royal face.

 

Something, that even at the peak of release, _compels you to whisper—shout even—_

_‘I’_

Your arms find their way round his neck.

 

‘ _I don’t want to lose you.’_

He’s so close.

 

_‘I want you to be happy.’_

Black hair curtains his tired, sad face with every sway of your hips.

 

_‘I want you here.’_

Then when you’re finally teetering off the edge, closing your eyes as darkness spreads across your vision, you are left with mind-boggling pleasure and a breathless epiphany.

 

_‘I love you.’_

 

In the summit of intimacy, a white blur begins to fog your eyesight, crawling like a wide burst of light. Before you could even realize what was happening, the knot in your stomach comes undone and you’re the first to tip over. Your mouth opens in a silent cry as the furrow of your brows twist all the more.

The Shimada savors your expression, feels that familiar tightness coiling in his stomach, the strain in his limbs, that urgent building and breaking and finally with one particular stroke, Hanzo pistols deep into you, the man’s back hunching over your form in senseless euphoria, moans guttural and sharp. You gasp at the overwhelmingly pleasant feeling, an electric and numbing sensation spreading past your skin. Both your eyes and his shut close in the high of the moment, two mingled bodies fighting to fall back into a steady pace of breathing. The following minutes are spent in comfortable silence, searching for stamina.

Pants and sweat filled the empty space as he pulls out with a clipped groan.

You never said the line, at least you think you didn’t, but the discovery filled your heart with so much compassion that you couldn’t help but tilt him closer to your lips. A kiss is imprinted on the base of his forehead—a compensation for the missed phrase of ‘ _I love you.’_  

“You are welcome,” He jokes lowly in response to your gesture.

The retort takes you by surprise and you find yourself laughing softly in the hold of his arms, swatting him lightly down the arch of his shoulders. A chuckle slips out his person.

Once the room had cooled and air was much easier to breathe Hanzo takes in the afterglow of your shared proximity. His eyes are half-lidded, admiring the glistening warm skin of his _koibito_ and the small falling and rising of their chest. You were radiant. Behind the wall of your closed vision, you feel his lingering gaze and a small grin slowly spreads across your lips. The seams of your sight start to flutter open, allowing you to catch wind of Hanzo’s meaningful stare. You revel in its solace, your expression soft and playful whilst his, serious yet good-natured.

Empathy instantly floods the darkness as your fingers glide down to cup at his tensed cheeks, gaze softening with sincerity and care. You run a comforting thumb beneath his eyelids, watching as Hanzo, despite his knitted brows and clenched teeth, leans hesitantly into your hold. A wave of calm floods him at the contact, and the archer finds himself keeping it, storing it away in the banks of his memory. He peers up inquisitively through dark lashes, that small inkling of playfulness replaced by a growing depth that seemed more comfortable than it was dark.

Your lashes flutter in a moment of thought, fingers still gliding across his worn, damp skin. The smile on your lips twitches upwards as something pleasant (always _something)_ skips in your chest.  

 

_I love you._

 

“Hey,” You whisper, tone gentle—if not just the slightest bit teasing.

 

**_I love you._ **

 

He doesn’t respond, still searching your beaming eyes. Anticipating. Teetering. Words lodged in his dry throat. Hanzo merely leans down to the crook of your neck, nestling against your nape in a silent plea for comfort. You laugh once more, the sound carrying through the wind like a merry jingle. Its vibrations travel happily across his frame, shaking his tired soul closer to the skies. From the corners of your eyes, you see Hanzo's chapped lips raise in a half-smile. Happy. _Okay._

It strikes clarity in your mess of emotion. _You_ _would wait._ A sigh slips past your lips as your hold falls down to the man’s waist, encasing him in a warm embrace. Just skin on skin, as bare as one could be. And when Hanzo Shimada catches a whiff of your scent, he thinks of the years spent with you, thinks of the moments you roared against life—how it brought strength to his veins—thinks of the times you spoke with a fire in your eyes but a kindness in your heart. That smile of yours, ever reassuring. Amidst the solitude, he feels the raging storm within him finally slow to an ambient drizzle. Darkness dances by the edges of his vision, lulling him to a peaceful slumber.

 

The dragon closes his eyes and listens.

 

He hears the faint humming of hope, how it felt so close—so familiar.

 

_Like merry little laughter, hopeful eyes, gentle hands._

Your heartbeat.

 

_Thud-thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud._

 

The spirits thunder greatly in his conscience, stirring with an excitement they had not felt in a long time.

 

A desire to live. To love.

 

Hanzo counts each sound and times each rhythm to his own.

 

_Thud-thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud._

 

You were alive.

 

You were okay.

 

_And you were with him._

After years of misguided choices and guilt, Hanzo Shimada forgets grief and welcomes sleep while bearing the knowledge that he would no longer wake up the next morning with regret. He would feel the sunrise linger within his embrace, beautiful and real, relieving to the chest and to the burdens of the world.

 

Hanzo tightens his hold.

 

And knows that you are the sunrise.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any requests please do comment! Comments and feedback keep me going hehe (as do kudos ; ) ) 
> 
> Bless!
> 
> p.s: now I might make a semi-steamy Genji x Reader fic...any ideas? Prompts?


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